Penance
by Parodys
Summary: A look ar Nikita's life as Operations


Disclaimer: I own none of the characters….sigh

A/N: This is my first LFN fic and I would really appreciate some feedback on it. This takes place after the last episode- Enjoy.

Penance

It's often said that the night embraces some like a long lost lover, and discards others. For Nikita, the night had accepted her without reservation, and as the sun sank into the horizon each night, she welcomed it. She felt safe within the confines of the shadows; the hidden depths hadn't betrayed her like the bright sunshine of the day. It hadn't always been that way.

Nikita sat up in bed, the cool sheets sliding across her thighs as she leaned against the wall. The windows let the chill night breeze in, the filmy curtains flapping silently against the outline of the moonlight night. There were no barriers in the night, just pure raw emotions where lovers could release their inhibitions, and thieves could steal softly into the darkened homes, prowling for little trinkets of gold and silver. She sighed, running a hand through her hair, letting the pale strands fall gently on her shoulder like a lover's tender caress. Getting up, she padded to her desk and flipped open the computer and keyed in her code. Seconds later, across the world a satellite zoomed in on Michael playing with his son. He had cut his hair short, and had left the dark clothes of Section for jeans and a T-shirt. A smile crossed her face, as she traced his outline on the screen. A laughing boy ran and flung himself into his father's arms, and Michael tickled him as he led them back into their house. 

It was ironic that the man she had once accused of having lost his soul, to be able to discard the mantle of Section so quickly. Nikita on the other hand, she had slid into her life with an ease that had rattled her. Her gaze flitted around the room, jumping from one item to another, her eyes taking in the stark bareness. The furnishings were sparse, a bed, a few chairs, a table, and a lamp. The rest was…empty. A clear expanse of cold metal and marble that even the sunlight seemed loath to touch. It was a far cry from her first apartment, full of color and warmth even with the trappings of Section. She could almost hear her old self ask where her soul had gone, why she had betrayed her ideals for a life such as…_this_. Even the word sounded bitter in her mind, tainted by her hopes for a better world that were systematically destroyed one by one until she was left clinging to the single hope that her actions would save more than it destroyed. Not a very optimistic view, but realistic as Walter had once told her. 

Her console beeped, and she swiftly left the lingering image of Michael and answered it. "Yes?"

Jason's voice sounded rough, grating against the quiet dark. "We've just gotten intel on Red Cell and the location for their new base."

"Gather up the operatives, I want a mission profile in a half an hour, use all the manpower you need." Nikita shut her computer, and quickly dressed in a white suit, her fingers deftly tying up her hair into a soft French knot.

Five minutes later, she walked into Section to where Jason was looking over the data. "What is the probability that they're still there?"

"90%, they don't know that we intercepted their operative."

"How much time until they do?" Nikita mind worked rapidly through the sim that was being run by the computer.

"Not much, twelve hours at the most." Jason estimated slowly, his fingers typing rapidly.

"Call in our best operatives on this, I don't want to Red Cell to get away with this. Report to me as soon as you have the profile up." Her heels clicked sharply, as she walked away and Jason watched her retreating figure with mixed emotions. He was willing to bet that his brother wouldn't have recognized the woman they now called Operations.

Precisely twenty- three minutes later the profile was downloaded into her console and Jason stood in front of her, uneasy in the perch. "The success rate?"

He punched up a few numbers on his pad. "80% without the abeyance, 99% with."

It had become a standard answer after her accession to power, the constant struggle for balance between the price of a mission being completed and the price of life. Today, however the compromise was too great. "Pull up the list for the abeyance team, and run the mission with it." Her heart gave the familiar chiding twinge that had become familiar with decisions like these, and the for the next hour she ran on automatic as the team headed out. Although she preferred standing downstairs with Jason as the team went in, she had discovered that her presence had made him nervous and uncomfortable; so she waited in the perch, listening to the whispered commands of the team leader as they infiltrated the old bunker.

Sporadic gunfire peppered through the room, as she heard the operatives quickly and efficiently do their jobs. Eight bombs placed in strategic positions in the base, positioned to bring several tons of metal and concrete on the enemies heads. She could hear Jason's instructions as her mind went over the profile.

"Team 1, go to egress 2."

Three operatives begin to head towards escape.

"Team 2, proceed to egress 3."

Four more operatives leave the building that they have set as a death trap.

"Team 3, cover teams 1 and 2."

Three operatives take the fire as the others live and the walls crush them.

Nikita flipped off the speaker, it had been something she had no need to hear again. To listen to the sharp cries as bullets ripped through their bodies or as they were suffocated in an avalanche of twisted girders and rubble. No, she had head enough death for one day. But, face expressionless she turned it back on, forcing herself to hear the death cries, the shuddering sobs as men and women were torn from the grips of life. She owed them that much at least, that they wouldn't die alone. 

Anyone looking up at the perch would see nothing out of the ordinary, Nikita's face expressionless as she watched over her operatives. No one knew that she heard the last pleas for help, the last gasps of breath each time she sent operatives out on a mission such as that. It was her penance. 

Nikita waited until the hiss of static proclaimed a fate decided over five hours ago, before shutting off the radio. The operatives would be another three hours until they came so she decided to go back to the Tower for the rest of the night. Looking down over Section One, she gave a brief nod to Jason and left. The elevator ride was silent on the way up, and as she walked into her room, she was relieved to find that the sun had yet to rise. For a few hours at least, she could find some comfort. Pulling off her clothes, she sat at her computer shivering in her nightshirt until she got used to the air. It was her ritual of sorts, open the computer, enter the code, and gaze at the little yellow house with a white picket fence that had a laughing child inside and his father. Michael walked outside to the mailbox and pulled out some envelopes, pausing once to call something to the child at the window. He glanced around and then seemed to look straight at her with a soft smile tugging at his lips. 

It was only then that Nikita was finally able to sink into the blissful dark of slumber, silky sheets entwined around her body like a lover's. And her soul? Not gone, merely lovingly tucked away in a man's heart, who was holding it safe for her until he could return it to her.


End file.
